


Little Star

by RisqueSno



Category: Peter Pan (2003), Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, a pirate's life for me, she's whatever age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 15:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6709819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisqueSno/pseuds/RisqueSno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wendy only knows one full song on the piano, and this is a harpsichord, but the Captain's too drunk to care. (A pitifully short prompt fulfillment and absurdly long thank you)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Star

**Author's Note:**

> After I asked for prompts a few months back, tumblr user sageandginger requested this and I'm putting it up on AO3 now in an attempt to thank the readers of "Tea With A Pirate". It makes me so happy to read your thoughtful words and see your kudos! I never thought so many people would have lovely and constructive things to say about the piece, thank you . I have the next part of TWAP started and I have a few solid concepts for further chapters, but until then please enjoy this even though it's not even close to the gold writing y'all deserve. Eventually, I'll get back to that and respond to your comments. (I'm a damn mess.) You're welcome to message me about ships on tumblr, I'm all about that. 
> 
> Prompt: hook/wendy: something musical! wendy singing, hook playing most of a piano while wendy helps with missing notes, hook singing, anything!
> 
> So, so sorry for the wait! Things sometimes just get a little crazy. I hope you like this! ❤️  
> Wendy Darling/Captain Hook (Notice: UNBETAED. Wendy is whatever age you want, it won’t affect the text. Some sexy implications. Drinking happens. I have no idea about harpsichords.)

It’s a calm night on the water, the Jolly Roger anchored just off the coast of the island. Inside the captain’s quarters, flush with halting notes from the harpsichord that was a barely passing minuet of Bach’s, Wendy sat upon the Captain’s lap, both of them laughing when the notes faltered. His intact left hand held the latest bottle of rum from that night, mostly consumed by him (though Wendy had taken a few brave sips), his hook resting against Wendy’s waist while she danced her fingers across the keys.

She barely recalled the full piece, or having learned it, but James didn’t seem to care. He was nuzzling his face into her neck, humming loosely to the tune, the rum forgotten on the floor with a muffled thud. Wendy began to play “twinkle twinkle little star”, which caused another bout of laughter from James and he began to sing along, Wendy joining him. Neither of them recalled the full lyrics, a situation that led to them repeating stanzas and inventing replacements.

It was only another half-hour until they turned in, the rum settling over James and Wendy eager to receive the attentions that usually ensued when he was in such a state. Sleep would sometimes overcome them both before anything substantial happened, the long day’s effects winning out against their pleasurable activities.

Hours later, their legs were entwined beneath the covers, James’ abbreviated right arm draped over her stomach and his face nestled into Wendy’s loose hair, muffling his occasional snores. It took a bit more time for her to drift off, though she was lulled by the creak of the vessel and the ever present rolling sea surrounding them.

Circumstances had not always been like this, she knew. She’d obviously been born, raised, learned the King’s English and rudimentary piano. Outside of those conclusions, Wendy could only grasp vaporous tendrils of what had come before her life of piracy. Often, increasingly, she did not consider these matters at all. Instead, she sunk into her Captain’s embrace and experienced the sweet freedom of Neverland.


End file.
